Naked Digimon
by reminiscent-afterthought
Summary: Gabumon has lost his fur! Oh no, what is he going to do now? Post 01


Author's Notes

This is right near the top of stupid ideas. Remember that episode where Matt gets a cold and Gabumon takes off his fur? Unfortunately, couldn't think of a better title, so paraphrased Gabumon's own words.

Enjoy, and tell me what you think.

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><p><span>Naked Digimon<span>

Gabumon has lost his fur! Oh no, what is he going to do now? Post 01

Gabumon & Gomamon

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><p>Gabumon didn't think very much of the dark and murky weather that persisted all throughout February. As if the rainstorms weren't bad enough, the air became so dense with cold that not only did the higher regions up north become almost inhabitable but anything that became waterlogged persisted to remain as such until either a substantial wind flew through the village, in which case the digimon straggled there were lucky to escape with only icicles hanging from their noses (a baby Poyomon had flown away entirely; no-one had heard from him sense), or the sun in one of its rare endeavours peaked through the clouds and brought some warmth to the village.<p>

Truth be told, the cold wasn't entirely intolerable. It was the rain, and the fact that his fur, once it got soaked (which in the current weather only took a few minutes) had a bit of trouble drying. The winds were dying down now but he would have welcomed even the harsh winter blizzard if the result was dry fur by the end of it. It was just the sort that _sucked_ water in and trapped it, so when he tried to warm it up by the fireplace, the tips singed while the part that felt inherently "gooey" while wet…well, stayed wet.

It was uncomfortable. He couldn't well sleep in it. So the nights left him huddled under a thick litter of leaves by the fire…with his fur drying at a safe distance.

In the morning, or rather, one particular morning, he came to realise that whichever human created the concept of locks was truly ingenious. It kept valuables safe. Far safer than leaving to dry in a hut-like room without such a lock to protect.

He supposed it could have been far worse. Someone could have stolen the little food stores he had left. Someone could have destroyed the shelter, or put out the fire, resulting in him catching the Digital World equivalent of the flu. Someone could have attacked him quickly and silently in his sleep, dealing significant damage…like Demidevimon had attempted to do with Sora, and would have if Biyomon hadn't awoken in the nick of time. Worse, someone could have killed him in his sleep without him ever knowing.

He resolved to go that very day and order a lock from Datamon in the next village over…no matter how bad the weather was.

Until he realised he couldn't well do so without his fur. The only article missing from his "house". And to make sure it truly was…well, stolen, he had checked every nook and cranny, finding some poisonous mushrooms growing in a corner and disposing of them in the process. He also found some parsnip he had forgotten about, but no fur.

And to top things off, it was raining. Again.

He huddled in the leaf litter that served as his blanket. It really was cold still…and the extra warmth of his fur coat would be welcome. He needed to do several things, including coincidently some shopping. And he couldn't imagine what the Lilamon who manned the supermarket would say if he showed up without modest coverings. She'd either yell and kick him out or laugh up a storm and never let him live it down. That was, of course, assuming he'd dare set foot outside his "door" like he currently was.

He was going red just thinking about it.

About half an hour later, he risked a peek. It was starting to drizzle, but that didn't seem to deter the group of Gomamon (none of which were his friend, ie. Joe's partner) and Otamamon wandering past. He quickly ducked in to avoid being seen by then, realising he was forced to resign himself to "house-keeping" for the day.

He might as well fix the floor, he decided. That way, if the rain got any heavier, it wouldn't soak his leaves again. He had no spares; he'd have to go pick more from the forest and dry them by the fire. He'd been planning to that afternoon. And he had to do something…otherwise he'd turn into a popsicle before someone decided to return his fur. Provided they took it for a joke. Which was the most logical explanation. The incidence for crime was rather low since the Dark Masters had been defeated.

If they didn't…well, he'd wake up tomorrow the same as he was today. Naked. And in that case…he'd probably have to find some alternative for covering so he could ask around. Oh, he really hoped nothing had happened to it. It would take _years_ to regrow that fur.

Of course, summer was coming up. But still…

By the time the floor was fixed, the rain was pouring down hard. The "roof" kept the onslaught from soaking him through…which was a blessing, especially since he had no outer coverings. If he had been out as planned, he would have been stranded in the middle of the road…and sick for days after.

He couldn't help but wonder if it was intentional. It sure sounded like a helpful prank. Like the time Gomamon had swiped his turnips. He had later found out there had been some virus wandering around in them.

Why was he always the last one to find out about things?

An hour or so later, Gomamon slid in, water dripping off his sleek skin as he walked on three paws, the fourth clutching something tightly folded.

'You've really got to get with the circle mon,' he commented, handing over the fur and seemingly having no trouble staring at his childhood friend without it. Although, as Gabumon quickly snatched back his coverings and slid into them, he didn't get all that much of a view. 'If you'd been at the hotspring with everyone else last night, you'd have known what the weather would have been like today.'

Like he'd get his fur further wet. He was a little self-conscious about the hot-springs too. Hence why he always avoided those little endeavours.

'Did you have to take my fur?' Gabumon grumbled, patting said fur down. It was always slightly uncomfortable when he first put it on.

The seal grinned. 'Well, you weren't waking up and I couldn't stick around all night you know.'

'You _could_ have left a note.'

A shrug. 'Can't spell. What are you complaining about anyway? Your fur's all nice and dry, and I even did your shopping for you.'

Oh boy. That could only mean trouble.


End file.
